Tour Group 5947
by Dr. Cultural Studies
Summary: It's simply called "the Ride." When technical difficulties create a problem that no one ever expected, Charlotte Kitchener's left to figure out how to keep her tourists alive and keep herself alive in the process. (Historically-accurate. Human OC).


**Tour Group 5947**

**Roster 1.1**

_Sequencing Initializing._

Protocol dictates that Charlotte must evaluate and memorize the tour group roster before making first contact with any customers, Article Three Paragraph Five. It's a rule that she's memorized by this point in her career. With just over three hundred Uplink tours in the past six months alone, she's the most practiced tour guide in the force. She's the poster child of the project, devoting her entire life to the perfection of the ride experience. She is so well-versed in the history of the ride itself that some newbie technicians can't even keep pace with her. Every time one of those wily young techs tries to throw a curveball at the woman, she just leads the tour to another section of the simulation and ignores that the glitch ever happened. She's unbelievably versed in improvisation.

Charlotte hates predictability, you see. She needs predictability to live and breathe, but she hates it. She often feels stuck in a repetitive cycle, never deviating enough to matter. It's a side-effect of her profession. Round and around and around. Like clockwork. Tourists enter the simulation, see the sites, experience the emotions, and then make their way to the nearest fast-food joint afterwards. Or to the gift shop. Or back to the airport. She leaves, takes a quick shower alone (fortunately or unfortunately), grabs some shut eye, eats some greasy fast food, and repeats. Repeats. Repeats.

Life outside of the ride is an endless cycle.

They say it's dangerous, becoming too attached to the world of make-believe.

To her, the ride is so much more than a hot tourist destination or a school field trip. Instead, it is a chance for history to be remembered in a living capacity. It is more than just a memorial. It is a monument to all those who had died in the pursuit of all things. Because if there's one motivation that humanity is guilty of, it is pursuit. Pursuit without foresight has left civilizations in shambles and once-beautiful rivers smelling like sulfur—rotten eggs. It was the same endless cycle. And she remembers this every time she crosses the Mississippi River and smells the chemical-rich waters.

"Do we have a convention in town or something?" Charlotte struggles to read through a couple of the names, finally quitting when she arrives at Beilschmidt. It has been a long day of repetitive tours—coming up on eight hours. She works longer and harder than any other guide on staff. The least they could do would be to give her a break every now and again. Sighing, she settles the clipboard on the table and stares across to her elder supervisor. "This is my _fifth_ tour today, Russell. Keep this up and I'll get Sim Sickness. Do y'all _really_ want that? I just got back from Machu Pichu, so don't even tell me that I shouldn't be tired."

Russell snorts, shaking his head. His graying hair is pulled into a short tail at the nape of his neck. "Stop with the melodramatics, Kitchener. You're the least susceptible of us all. Besides, this was a last minute booking. Miles has already gone home for the night. You're our girl. And anyway, Claudia said that this is a special booking. Paid upfront apparently." When she shoots him a glare, the middle-aged man holds up both hands in a placating manner. Charlotte is rarely ever impressed with money. "C'mon now, Charlie." Her head shakes and she looks over to the clock. "_Charlie_, c'mon. It's a pretty big group, but it's nothing you can't handle. I saw you take on that group of sixth-graders like a champ. The techs were amused as hell."

Charlotte cringes and sinks lower into her chair, the rubber-like material of her suit clinging to the curves of her wide-set hips and pinching uncomfortably at her ankles. It's a built-in break time between tour groups that allowed her to breathe fresh oxygen and eat real food before entering the simulation once more. Really, it was more like a debrief and brief before her next mission. Her mind is tired and worn from days upon days of uplinks, each more trying than the next. She stuffs an overly sugary Honey Bun into her mouth and frowns around it.

"You try guiding twenty-seven obnoxious kids through the jungles of South America without facing a Sim-Kill, Russ. Then you can talk to me about handling things. Those brats were lucky that they were in the Safe Mode. If they had signed up for the Real Deal, half of 'em would have died within the first twenty minutes alone. It would have been like the Hunger Games. One would have met Gaia within thirty seconds if I didn't have the Safe parameters established." Russ actually has the gall to snort in amusement at her exasperation. "I don't even understand why we still have a Real Deal option in the first place. No one is allowed to access it save for military personnel. Safe Mode should be an automatic default. We don't want our patron's dying like that in a sim."

Russ shrugs. "That's above my pay grade, Charlie. I didn't program the ride. I just operate it."

"Charlotte." She hands him her coffee thermos and her open Honey Bun. She just can't stomach the rest and it's time for the ride anyway. He pops a piece into his mouth and grins. She rolls her eyes, settling herself back into the smooth interior of the Simulation Uplink, often referred to as the SimUp Pod. "Stop calling me Charlie. It was cute at first. Now it's just irritating."

With her Sim Suit attached to all of the internal drives and stations through an array of wires, her vital signs are constantly watched and monitored and nutrients are flushed through her suit to be absorbed via her skin. Her hands reach up to grab her mess of blonde curls and she stuffs it into a messy bun at the crest of her head as she leans back into the module seat. Closing her eyes for a moment, she removes the thick-rimmed glasses and settles them in the personal item box to her right along with her cellphone. "Russ, _tell me_ I'm getting a good tour this time." Her name reads out on the overhead display: Charlotte T. Kitchener, Senior Tour Guide—Access Code Required. She reaches up to tap the display's blue backlit keypad. Two-zero-four-five-nine.

"No guarantees," he smiles. "At least it is a Seven Wonders. Can't be any easier than that, right? Around the world, around the world." His voice is rough and deep, strangely interacting with the musical tune of the initiating Uplink. "Enjoy it some, Charlie. After this, you get the weekend off. Think of it, you could spend all day…doing whatever it is you do on your time off."

Charlotte rolls her eyes and arches her back to get comfortable. The SimUp begins to close, loud beeping sounds indicating that she was mere seconds out of a tour. She could see Russell's faintly amused face outside of the pod, eyes twinkling like always. He gives a wave and shuts out the lights to the small Uplink room. She relaxes and, with practiced ease, allows her mind to go blank. _1011010010100010101001010010100101 _A bright white light overtakes her vision and then the heat from a digital sun alights on her cheeks. Her eyes open and she is met with the sight of the beautiful Commons. Taking a deep breath, her hands brush down the burgundy golf shirt that acts as a piece of her uniform. "Techs, I'd like a heads-up display this go-round. Didn't quite have time to learn the whole list."

_That's not like you, Charlotte. You ok? – _David, Senior Tech

Keeping her distance from the assembled tour group, she shakes her head. The heads-up display, or HUD as it had come to be known from gaming vernacular, seemed to exist in thin air around her vision. As a tour guide, she was capable of manipulating the HUD to fit her needs. Tourists were limited to a few basic functions. "This is my sixth today, Dave. Really, I just want a coffee and a season of Doctor Who. Is that too much to ask? Let me guess, y'all are watching Fifteen again." The techies have a love affair with the classics, preferring to stick with the reboot Doctors. Fifteen through Eighteen. Smirking when she saw a Tardis fly across her visual queue, she lifts her hand and pushes the list of names upwards so that she can view them all. "Are all ten linked, David?"

_Nearly. Five Uplink Pods are offline for maintenance. Looks like a fun bunch though. They were pretty energetic when they arrived. May be a group of tourists, but a couple look to be military. _

Instinct makes her glance toward the right and she spots a motley crew of sightseers standing at the other end of the empty grove. Immediately, she notices the loudmouth college-age guy who keeps shouting something about his "awesome technology" and another young man with extremely thick (she can see them from nearly fifty feet away) eyebrows who is rolling his eyes in a very familiar way at the other blond's antics. Others stand around in clumps of two or three, all talking in quiet tones and glancing all about with curiosity on their faces. A small, amused smile creeps onto Charlotte's face. No matter how many times she does it, she always finds entertainment in the way first-timers react to the virtual world. It's always with an air of childlike wonder. Swiping her hand to the right, the HUD disappears and she takes a deep breath.

"Hello! Hello!" She calls out as she plasters on her usual guide façade, upbeat and friendly. The men and women turn to face her, some disgruntled and others obviously excited. "My name is Charlotte Kitchener! I will be your guide today in what has come to be known as simply: the Ride. We're a virtual simulation game that focuses on the digital creation of nearly all recorded history." Someone in the group snorts, but Charlotte is trained enough not to respond. Her hand sweeps to the right and, out of thin air, a screen appears to block out the sky. "There are just a few rules and warnings that I have to get out of the way first. You should have already been asked about your physical health. If this is true, please take a look at your right wrist."

The tourists raise their right arms and some gasp at the buttons that have been digitally grafted into their skin. One young brown-haired young man lets out a surprised yelp. "Ah! It's so strange! I've never seen anything like it! Ludwig, look!" He brandishes his arm in front of a tall, muscular blond. There's an Italian lilt in his accent. Feliciano, she guesses. Maybe the names will be easier than she expected. "I have buttons in my arm! I'm a robot!"

"Not quite," Charlotte interrupts with a patient smile. He looks to her with wide, excited eyes. "This is your Uplink Channel." With another wave, a graph appears in the air next to her. The techies were clearly focused on her because usually there was a momentary lapse in interaction. "The two buttons closest to your pinky finger operate in very much the same way an old cellphone once did. If you press the green button and state a name, that person will be contacted. You will be connected until the red button is pressed on either end of the conversation. In some simulations, communication is a necessity therefore it is essential that you understand how this works. Are there any questions so far?"

"The yellow buttons below?" The man with the thick eyebrows questions. "There are three of them. What are they for?" A Brit, she notes through his accent.

"A nice transition, Mister—" she smiles.

He gives an almost curt nod. "Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."

"Anyone with questions about the Channel, please let me know. I am at your disposal for the next two weeks or as long as it takes for the last member to complete the game. As for the yellow buttons, you'll notice there are three. Count them three. No more, no less. Does anyone know what these are? Do not touch the red button at the end. Never, ever touch the red button. Any guesses?" She swipes her hand to the right and a magnified image of the Uplink Channel appears, focusing on three in-line buttons rounded into the skin. If she were at all unfamiliar with the virtual world, she would see the buttons and cringe. They look unnatural in human skin no matter how often she explained them and their function. At the end of the line of three, a red button sat a little off-set. This is to avoid accidental activation. "These are—"

One guy—the loud one she had spotted before—waves his hand obnoxiously at the front of the group. He looks _unbelievably_ enthusiastic, like a kid set loose in a candy store after dosing up one a Red Bull Ultra. He's even bouncing on the balls of his tennis-shoed feet. Charlotte nods at him with her routinely plastered grin. The techies were probably having a _blast_ with this in the tech booth. "They're the Uplink Inquiry Aids! UIAs for short! They're freakin' awesome! They're like research options. The first one lets you research an object, person, or a historical situation. The second gives you options for weapons, clothing—Oh! The third one is like—a POV from a video game. It gives the player a different view of the situation! Hellz yeah for American technology!"

She feels her lips form a silent 'o' before she allows a small chuckle, habit makes her reach to adjust her glasses. Her fingertips land on the bridge of her nose, nearly poking into her eye. The lenses have been made obsolete by the virtual reality. To hide the movement, she pushes a hand through her hair. Only a couple seemed to notice her slip-up and small smiles form on their faces. A large blond man with a light purple scarf around his neck and a shorter Asian man, both of whom appeared amused. Each of the other tourists look a little dumbstruck, mouths hanging open a bit. Maybe they don't think that the loudmouth is capable of such knowledge? In her experience, it's always the loudmouths that are the most impossible to predict.

And, of course, the quiet ones.

The small Japanese man—like Honda Kiku, if she recalls the roster correctly—looks like a man who is impossible to predict.

"You're absolutely right save for the fact that we partnered with a Japanese tech firm to create the interfaces and software. Anyway, got a name?"

"Alfred Jones! Nice to meet ya, Charlie!"

She forces herself not to cringe. She can't correct a tourist. "Back at you." She gives a small salute, noting vaguely that he had (consciously or subconsciously) elected to keep his glasses in the virtual world. Redirecting her attention to the rest of the crowd, she gestures toward the diagram. "As Alfred stated, these are your Inquiry Aids. We call them UIAs for short. Each is meant to help you along through the ride. Since this is an extended period of time that we'll be active in the game, and to mirror the point of the experience, food will not be provided in a virtual capacity. However, your bodies are being tended with regular supplements that will maintain your health. We will need to provide for ourselves within the ride environment. I'll get to that in a few moments." Reaching down, she presses the first button on her own wrist. A screen pops up to her right, visible only to her. "Press your first button now."

Charlotte observes silently as each tourist presses the first yellow button, their eyes widening at the first view of the Inquiry Panel. For them, it functions very similarly to a HUD. "You can activate the function through mental or vocal commands or through the physical button. Your screen is invisible to other players and to the beings within the ride itself. For instance, Pharaoh Ramses will not see it." A few look stunned at that example. "Think of it as an inexhaustible database of all known information. Everything from history to astrophysics to quantum mechanics to what kind of socks President Greenwood wore last week. For example," she glances to the screen, "UIA display history of the United States."

At the front, Alfred gives a loud whoop of appreciation and it is only in that moment that Charlotte notices the dog tags that rest around his neck and the flag emblazoned on his t-shirt. A soldier, she realizes immediately. So Russell was right. Without waiting, the blond shouts his command: "Yo, UIA! Pull up stuff on the Revolutionary War!" His eyes widen as he stares off toward the right. Confused, he turns to the guide. "Uh, dude, it's telling me to specify. Specify what?"

"Your revolution wasn't the only revolutionary war in history, fool!" A long-haired blond states as if it is painfully obvious. There is a slight accent to his voice. French. Perhaps this is Francis Bonnefoy? She can only remember that name because she dated a foreign exchange student with the middle name Francis in high school. She cringes and shakes her head. High school was never something she wanted to remember. How happy she is to have that torture behind her by about ten years. "There was the French Revolution, obviously. Duh. UIA, search for the French Revolutionary War!" As if showing his victory, the Frenchman stamps his foot and crosses his arms. Charlotte covers her mouth to avoid laughing at a customer.

"Pulling up your own history? This was meant to help relations not—" Arthur argues momentarily before seeming to remember himself. His head shakes. "Nevermind." Charlotte does her best to act ignorant of the oncoming argument. Her eyes shift over to where a small group seems to have gathered to the side. They seem to be talking amongst themselves, bringing up their UIA screens without issue. The Japanese man, the tall blond (whom she assumed was Ludwig), a silver-haired young man with red eyes, and Feliciano. "Stupid wanker. UIA, information on the War of 1812, if you please."

"Oh, suck my—" Alfred begins, but is cut off by the same long-haired man from before. A hand slaps her fellow American comically on the back of his head and he gives a dramatic wail. "What the actual hell, France?"

"There is a lady present, Alfred. Do not be crude." He spins on his heel and gives a very formal (and very unwarranted) bow. Charlotte finds herself surprised at the degree of formality she was being shown. For the most part, the tourists usually ignore or harass her. This group seems to be a lot more respectful of her position. Maybe they actually read the information before the ride stating that she was actually a senior staff member? No, no one ever reads that message. "My apologies, Charlotte. He's young and was raised with ill manners."

"You toad-faced git!" The British man shouts.

Charlotte sees immediately that she needs to get a grip on the situation before it spirals out of control once more. "Alright, alright! Now this is something that you all need to listen to before we can start the tour." Her raised voice brings the attention of all the tourists and she feels a small snap of victory. They are much easier to handle than the class of sixth graders, that much is certain. "I suppose it is best to get this out of the way now since there seems to be some tension in the group." She makes a point to not look between Arthur and Francis. Instead, she focuses on the smaller group. Ludwig, the tall blond, nods his head in obvious approval. "You will have to depend on each other while on the ride. This isn't an individual achievement game. It requires teamwork. We're going to have to come together if we want to survive."

"Survive? You mean we can die in here?"

"Of course," she nods. "We're going back in time, in a sense. Death is inherent."

"Not so much," someone whispers. Charlotte thought she saw the albino man turn to cover his face with his hands and she can hear the faintest snickering. When she glances over she sees Ludwig sending a very powerful elbow into the gut of the apparently amused man, clearly not amused himself.

Deciding to just leave it be, she shrugs. "You can die from the elements, from physical wounds. This is a game and the goal is to survive until we arrive to the final gate. Of course, we're looking to make it through all seven of the world's wonders."

"They just tourist sites though. How they are dangerous?" Her eyes turn to the tallest member of the group. His accent is very clearly Russian and she mentally establishes that he must be Ivan Braginsky. Yes, remembering names is going to be easy with this group.

"Dude, really?" Alfred interrupts before she can explain. "We're going to the Coliseum and you're wonderin' what we're gonna be doing?" Charlotte watches in stunned silence as the small Italian member of the group begins to bounce on his toes, looking like a little child. Of all the tourists in this group, she never would have guessed him to be the one excited about the Coliseum level. "Ten bucks and a soda says we're gonna be gladiators."

"How exciting!"

"What happens if we die?"

"Well, then you will be terminated from the ride and you will awaken in your physical body. No issues and no physical harm. The ride is driven by artificial intelligence. It will respond to you and each game is different. I have never had two tours the same. Each tour is different because the game is built to react to you." Still, the game usually was pretty predictable. So no matter the variables, the outcomes are always the same. Most survive. Some die because of some stupid mistakes. And repeat. Repeat. Repeat. "As this is in Safe Mode, you will feel pain. However, there will not be any extreme blood and gore. When death is imminent, your pain sensors will be shut off and you will be removed from gameplay. You must remain calm though. Remember that this is not real-life. It is a simulation and ultimately not reality. If you are tired of playing or want to escape the game for any reason, then press the red button on your wrist. It will return you to your body. Then, of course, there's—"

"The Spin, right? That's what they call it at least."

"Before you are returned to your physical body," she explains patiently, "you will be shown a series of world sites and some beautiful landscapes as well as a sequence of all historical events from early Mesopotamia to last year's 2096 Olympic Games in Athens. It's a mashup of world history, I suppose. It shows practically everything, from empires being built to them being burned." She looks around the group to find their eyes wider than she had ever seen. Tourists usually aren't so much surprised by the Spin Sequence. Why is this group different? The question seems to be one that lingers at the back of Charlotte's mind. She pushes it aside. "The sequence really is beautiful. It's my favorite part of the game, honestly." She hopes this calms their obvious nervous energy.

"Why?" She turns to the white-haired man. His arms cross over his chest and he looks a bit skeptical. "I have heard of the Spin Sequence, you know. A lot of people say it's depressing. A lot of people say it's a good investment. It's what's pushed in the gift store right? In the commercials? Why do you like it so much?"

"It's history. What's not to like?" She responds. It's the way she's supposed to respond. It's the way she's been trained to respond.

It's not necessarily how she feels though. It's her job to settle their minds and to make the game seem like this wonderful investment of their time and money, especially their money. Even she can see the weakness in her words. With the way the red-eyed man raises his brows, she knows that he's figured her out. And it's a chilling moment. Not because he was seeing right through her tour guide mask, but because this was the first time that a tourist of any sort had questioned her love of the subject and of the Spin Sequence. In all honesty though, she hates the "game-end" reel of beautiful world sites and sequential rising and falling of nations. She hates it because it's something that doesn't belong in a video game. It doesn't belong in a ride of any kind. It belongs in memory, where it's supposed to be. It belongs to the people and not to an organization that barely pays minimum wage. It deserves to be honored, not commoditized. Her stance shifts and she crosses her arms.

She can see a private message from David, the technician on her screen. _Don't. _That's all it says. And, for some reason, Charlotte reaches the end of her very long rope.

"It is a chance for history to be _alive_. Maybe to make some poor sod think about his great-great-great grandfather who died in one of the World Wars?" She waves her hand and dismisses David's warning. If this earns her a demerit or a warning, then so be it. They should have kept someone else on staff and made them work for six tours straight. Then maybe she would be a bit more patient. Her eyes flicker to the range of expressions the tourists are exhibiting. Some are startled. Some more astonished. It almost seems that Alfred is _proud_. The main reaction she focuses on though is that of the red-eyed man. She doesn't yet know his name. He looks taken aback by her vehemence. Obviously he had been expecting something much different. "The Spin is the selling point, right? Really, to me it's more of a memorial. It is a monument to all those who have died in the pursuit of all things. Every war that was ever fought and forgotten. Every genocide that teacher's no longer teach." Once more she waves her hand and the scenery around the Commons begins to change. The men of the group look around in wonder gaping as the tree seem to vaporize around them and the grass gives way to sand.

Walls seem to build themselves up around them, heavy sandstone block after block. Sand seems to swirl around in the darkness of the generating realm, pixels not visible to the naked eye. The heat is dry and sweltering, bits of that sand prickling against the skin. The tourists stare around the newly built house, glancing around as if the structure is going to topple at any moment. There is not one detail out of place. A series of urns are leaned against the far wall, gold and turquoise painted in elaborate detail along the ceramic. Everything as it should be. It is a recreated home that had been virtually detailed to possess even the smallest attributes, including the small beetle that was waddling its way around the window sill. Then, out of nowhere, the loudmouth starts up again. Charlotte jerks at the sudden sound.

"That was freakin' awesome! Where are we, huh?"

"What _the hell_ was that?" The British man practically snarls. Some can react adversely to the 'scene changes' because of their disorienting affect on tourists. She is so accustomed that they barely seem to get her off-kilter anymore. "The world just disappeared and rematerialized right before our very eyes! That was bloody wild!"

"Miss Charlotte, are we now in Egypt? Has our tour started?" Charlotte glances toward the small Japanese man and nods her head. He presses his lips together and glances down at his sweater and jeans. "Then we need to change our appearances, do we not?"

"Yes," she responds. Her eyes flicker toward the message from David that lingers in her peripheral vision. _You've done it now, Charlotte. The Director was here and saw your tirade. _She glances upward and gives a very wide smile. They couldn't fire her after all. She was the best tour guide on the roster and she follows everything by the book. One rant, one loss of control, would hardly contest her employment. At worst, she knows she'll get a tap on the wrist. "Gentlemen, if you'll press the second yellow button on your wrist…" She presses her own and watches at Tour Group 5947 does the same. Their gasps are amusing as a ring of gold light falls from over their heads. In a matter of a few scant moments, their modern apparel is replaced by ivory robes. A couple only possessed sarongs about their waists while their stomachs and shoulders were visible. Others, such as the Italian, wore smocks with beaded neck guards. She felt the familiar brush of the gauze-like fabric on her ankles and she knows she doesn't have very much time until the game actually begins. "How many of you have played 'capture the flag'?"

Alfred lifts his hand and waves it in the air while Feliciano does the same. The others are more controlled in the answers. It seems that this was her first tour group to have a full roster with game experience. Good. "I'm hella good at capture the flag!"

"As am I! I have captured many flags in my time," Arthur asserts. A couple people groan. She notices a sly grin sliding onto his face and she wonders vaguely if she's missing something. Regardless, she shakes it off. She doesn't have time to wonder anyway. The game is about to start and she doesn't have a moment to lose. Walking to the window, she gestures outward. "Don't tell me that we're capturing a flag. This isn't a children's game."

"Not quite," her vague answer only draws more of the tour group to the window. Overhead, in the blue skies above the sprawling desert reads the words: Evade and Capture. A horn sounds, echoing throughout the burning landscape. Charlotte, despite having gone through this multiple times, feels a surge of excitement. She always loves this particular level. "It seems the pharaoh has learned of our presence. In order to reach the next level, we have to find an artifact that possesses the power of Osiris and use it to unlock the gate. If we're captured, we'll be imprisoned and/or killed." Charlotte allows a grin to pull onto her face and she looks around at the men. There are some uncertain glances being exchanged. Even so, Alfred and the red-eyed man are smiling widely. There even seems to be some dark interest in the eyes of the more gentle-natured of the group, such as Ivan. "Oh yes. Welcome to Memphis, everyone, and not by way of I-40. We're in a different Memphis now. One where you can't smell the chem-leaks." Turning, she raises her hand and swipes the air. A screen appears for them to see, "This is Level One— The Pyramids of Giza."

* * *

**Author's Section**

Welcome to my new potential story. I have been working hard on this to get up a promo chapter. This is just to gauge the reaction to see if it is worth posting or if I should just scrap it. There's going to be such an awesome storyline and I already like Charlotte as a character. She's very different from my other OCs and that will become very obvious further down the line. I took some inspiration from a great novel, Riding the Trail of Tears by Blake Hausman, to create The Ride. More and more about the history of the Ride and the world will come up later in the story. Of course, everything represented in the story will be completely historically accurate. Charlotte will have to grow quite a bit as well and she will interact with the Hetalia characters more and more with the situations they are put in. It's going to be awesome. I just hope that this sparked interest! I just want to see what the initial feedback is before proceeding any further.

Let me know what you think! Please leave some feedback!


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